Everything's OK with UsUk!
by Diddle10
Summary: A bunch of UsUk one-shots put into one story!
1. Punk

**Hey guys! Sorry I haven't uploaded anything! I have been writing just not as much as I should. This makes up for it right? The ending is crap and kind of rushed.**

_Amelia is trying to prove to her brother Alfred that she is independant. What happens when she gets harrassed by a certain drunk Frenchman at a club? A certain punk blonde comes to her rescue!_

Disclaimer: I own an America keychain! Does that count as owning Hetalia?

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I didn't belong here. Every other teen standing in line had tattoos, piercings, or a mix of the two adorning their bodies. The guy standing in front of me had a snake swirling around his bloodshot eyes in unnatural shades of violet and blue. His girlfriend (if she was even a _girl_) had a spiky neon pink Mohawk and piercings covering her face.

I stood out like a sore thumb with my natural curls and unblemished skin. Instead of the baggy clothes that everyone else wore, I had on a cute pair of denim shorts and my white button down was tied above my bellybutton. Instead of my usual cowgirl boots I wore a pair of cute sneakers that I had borrowed from Elizaveta. I was thankful for the bomber jacket that my brother had lent me when a strong breeze blew my bare legs and face. I shivered.

"Are you cold?" a boy asked. His accent sounded French, and I could smell liquor on him and his two friends. He was practically leaning on me.

"I'm fine," I replied turning around. His friends chuckled behind him. The line moved up, and I flashed my ID at the robust guy in front of me. His white hair was hanging in his face, his lavender eyes glancing at my ID.

"Go ahead. Have fun time, da?" His smile was innocent which instantly made my skin crawl. I smiled back and walked inside. The lighting was dim and the place was crowded with too many people. At least three people stepped on my foot in the first minute.

I pushed past people not even saying "excuse me" like I would have normally. I had to prove to my brother that I didn't need his help and that I wasn't a goody-two-shoe. I made it to the stage. It was the only thing really illuminated in the place with flickering lights overhead. There was a band onstage. I recognized all of them. They went to my school.

"Look who it is," the bassist called. Two very drunk guys stumbled onto the stage. The Spanish boy went to the drums and the German to the guitar. The bassist was an Italian in my art class. He had dark auburn hair parted to the right with a long curl. He rolled his hazel eyes at his band mates and went back to what he was doing.

"Shut up, Lovi," the Spanish boy slurred. His green eyes were glazed over, a drunken cloud completely covering them. His brown curls were tousled.

"Yea, Lovino. Shut up," the German exclaimed. His contacts were the color of blood, and his hair was so light it looked silver. His eyes were clouded like his companion's. I didn't know how Elizaveta could stand dating him. Another Italian boy ran up on stage. He was Lovino's little brother Feliciano. He grabbed the microphone. He had an acoustic guitar in his hands.

"I have a special song for my boyfriend Ludwig!" he exclaimed. He must have been drunk for he was swaying, and his cheeks were flushed. He started to sing. "Germany, Germany, Germany is a really really nice place. Even though I'm his prisoner he gives me food. And it doesn't suck like English food."

"Get off the stage!" someone in the crowd yelled. I could see Ludwig struggling to get to the stage. His hair was ruffled.

"Feliciano, get down!" he hollered. Feliciano complied. He jumped off the stage and ran up to Ludwig, giving him a giant hug.

"Where's Francis?" Lovino asked. I had been wondering the same thing. I never trusted the Frenchman after he cheated on my baby sister with Angelique.

"He went searching for some girl or something." I didn't know he meant me until someone grabbed my wrist. It was Francis.

"Come on, mi amour. You know you love me. There's been rumors going around that you like a blonde at our school in a band. Seeing that I'm the best looking in the school, I'm blonde, and I'm in a band it was obviously me," he slurred. I yanked my hand away. My cheeks were blazing. I didn't like _him._ I liked his friend. I couldn't believe that word got out about my crush.

"It's not you!" I exclaimed. He smirked and grabbed my wrist again.

"You were jealous that I was with your sister weren't you? That's why you wanted us to break up."

"You were _cheating _on her!"

"Whatever." He had his arms around my waist. I was struggling, but it did nothing.

"Is there a problem here?" a boy with a British accent asked. My heart stopped. Why him?

"She loves me!"

"Yes, I can see that." I pushed Francis one more time. This time he fell on the ground. I fixed my outfit not wanting to look at my savior.

"Are you OK?" he asked. I looked up. His impossibly green eyes showed concern. His blonde hair looked like it was dipped in acid at the tips the color was so unnatural. His punk clothes made the look.

"I'm fine, Arthur," I replied.

"Do you like him?" He shuffled a little.

"God no."

"OK." He looked relieved. He wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Arthur?"

"Yes, Amelia?" His eyes looked hopeful.

"Could you keep this secret? I'm trying to prove to Alfred that I can take care of myself."

"Sure. If you promise to go on a date with me." He smirked. My blush deepened to an even darker crimson.

"Uh um." I looked at my feet. He lifted my chin up and brushed his lips against mine. It was sweet.

"Do we have a deal?" he breathed.

"Yes," I murmured. He kissed me again. Who knew bad boys could be so sweet?

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**Yay! You can now review and tell me how much you love Punk!Iggy! Too bad he's mine! **


	2. Kissed on a Dare

**Hey guys! I really liked writing this. Sorry that it's another Fem!America one. It was the only way I could possibly get my brother and boyfriend to read it. Well, enjoy:D**

_Arthur gets dared to kiss the first pretty girl he sees. _

Disclaimer: Don't own. Never will. Wish I did.

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Five blonde haired guys sat in a circle in a coffee shop in Manhattan. There was a Frenchman, two Germans, a Russian, and an Englishman. They were all in high school. It was Saturday, and instead of studying for their next test, they were goofing off and playing truth or dare.

"OK Arthur, truth or dare?" one of the German men (Gilbert) asked, mischief shining in his red contact eyes. The look couldn't be trusted. The Englishman thought for a couple seconds, before, being bold, he picked dare. The German's smirk grew, and his laugh was maniacal and sort of creepy.

"I dare you to kiss the first pretty girl you see walk by." Arthur paled. He knew he should have picked truth. Not wanting to look like a coward in front of his peers (especially Francis) he squared his shoulders and walked out in front of the shop to wait. It was springtime, so he only needed a light green hoody the same shade as his anxious eyes.

It wasn't like there weren't any pretty girls. Just none of them seemed _real._ All of them wore makeup that hid their face and clothes that showed more than he wanted to see. He sighed and sat on the bench in front of the shop.

"Come _on_, Amelia!" a blonde girl with long pig tails urged. Her purple eyes were shining in annoyance behind a pair of wire glasses. The next person to run in front of him was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her short blonde hair was slightly curled at the bottom, her cerulean eyes shone in excitement. There was nothing fake about her, and the cowgirl outfit she wore was adorable. Her boots hit the pavement as she ran to catch up to the other girl.

"Chill out, Mattie!" She laughed. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. Remembering the task at hand, he ran up, spun her around, and kissed her. She was ridged for a second before she relaxed. The kiss felt like one billion fireworks were going off at once. They broke apart. The other girl—probably her sister—looked horrified.

"Sorry. I was dared to kiss the prettiest girl I saw," he explained. She flushed a cute shade of pink.

"I'm flattered. I'd love to know your name though." He heard the hint of a southern accent.

"Arthur Kirkland."

"Well, Arthur, it was nice to meet you. Maybe we can see each other again sometime." Her eyes looked hopeful. He smiled.

"That would be lovely." She smiled and pulled out a violet pen. She grabbed his hand and started to scribble something on it. It said _Amelia Jones 675-5869_ in big loopy letters.

"Sorry. I didn't have anything else to use."

"It's OK. Well, Amelia, I guess I'll be seeing you later." She smiled and waved as her sister dragged her away. Arthur waved and went back inside. All of them looked at him expectantly. He held up his hand triumphantly.

"Crap. I wanted to see you get punched," Gilbert complained. Arthur just laughed.

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**I promise that the next one will be regular America for all those yaoi fangirls out there! Review?**


	3. Breakup

**Hey guys! I'm uploading a new story! This time it has yaoi! Yay! Be very excited. It's really sad at the beginning though. I dedicate this to Iggy! Just 'cause he's awesome:3**

_Arthur thinks that Alfred is cheating on him with Francis. Alfred makes the dumb mistake in breaking up with him. He goes and tries to get him back._

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia! 

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His mouth was set in a hard line. I was late. Again. We had been going out for a little over a year now, and I was still showing up to our dates late. I thought he would have expected it by now, but he still gets angry at me. I stopped in front of him trying to catch my breath. I had run here from nine blocks away.

"You're late," he stated. I sighed.

"I know. I was just—" I started to say.

"Save it. I already had to cancel our reservations anyway." His emerald gaze was cold. I couldn't look him in the eyes. He turned around and headed the other way.

"Artie!" I called going after him. His hands were balled into fists at his side. I grabbed one of them, lacing my fingers through his.

"Let go, Alfred. I'm not in the mood," he growled. I continued to hold it anyway. We walked hand in hand down the sidewalk. Arthur was silent. He wouldn't even look at me.

"I'm sorry, Artie," I whispered.

"No you're not. You were too busy spending time with Francis."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"I saw you two together. Don't pretend that you haven't been cheating on me."

"I haven't been cheating on you."

"I just told you I saw you with him! Don't lie to me!" he exclaimed yanking his hand from mine. I looked at him. I would not fight with him. He just wanted to make a scene.

"I'm not lying. I just needed his help with something." I tried to keep calm, but it was incredibly hard.

"You couldn't have asked me for help?"

"No."

"Why not?" he demanded. I bit my lip. I couldn't just ask him how to handle falling in love with someone. Especially since that someone was him. Sure Francis had teased me about my shyness, but he was actually extremely knowledgeable about the subject. He was French after all.

"I just couldn't have."

"Then why couldn't you have just told me you were talking to him instead of keeping it a secret?"

"You wouldn't have understood!" I hollered.

"Oh really?"

"Yes! You would've started assuming things like you are now!"

"Maybe you should've just told me what was going on!"

"Well, sorry! You always take things the wrong way!"

"No I don't!"

"Yes you do!"

"At least I trust you enough to tell you things!"

"Why is everything always my fault?"

"Because you always screw everything up!" We were both yelling at each other. We had never fought like this before.

"Well, maybe I screw up because I'm too busy trying to impress you!" I hollered.

"I doubt it! You never think about anything but yourself!"

"No I don't! I only ever think of you!"

"Stop lying to me!"

"I'm not lying to you! Maybe I should start thinking about me though!"

"Oh really? What are you going to do?" he screamed.

"I'm breaking up with you!" The words escaped my lips before I could stop them. We were both silent.

"What did you say?" he asked, his voice sounding small. I didn't answer. Tears were forming at his eyes. He wiped them away.

"I'm breaking up with you," I repeated.

"If that's how you feel." His British accent wavered a bit.

"Arthur—" I started to say. He held up a hand to silence me.

"It's fine. I'll be headed back to England in the morning." Then he turned around and continued walking the way we were headed. I turned and walked the other way. My heart felt like it was being crushed inside my chest.

I finally reached my apartment. I could barely open the door my hands were shaking so badly. I got inside and sat on my leather couch after closing the door. There were pictures of Arthur and me all over the apartment. It hurt to look at them. I usually would have turned on the TV, but I knew it wouldn't help me. I had just made the biggest mistake of my life.

The tears finally came, flowing from my blue eyes like fountains. There was no point trying to hold them back. I sobbed into my hands, my body shaking. I hated myself more than I hated English cooking (it tasted awful!). My phone started buzzing in my pocket. I ignored it. It stopped, and then picked up after a second. I sighed and fished it out. I calmed myself down before I answered.

"Hello?" I croaked.

"Alfred? You sound 'orrible. What iz zee matter?" a Frenchman asked.

"Francis, Arthur and I broke up."

"Que? Did zou tell 'im your feelings?"

"No. I was late, and when I tried to tell him, he called me a cheater," I explained.

"So 'e broke up with zou?"

"No. I, uh, I broke up with him."

"Are you fou? Why on Earth would zou do zat?" he hollered into the phone.

"He got me mad!"

"So zou break up with 'im? Zou 'ave to get 'im back!"

"He probably already left for England now."

"So?"

"So? I can't get to England. I can't afford a plane ticket. Besides, what makes you think he'll take me back?"

"Zou can borrow my jet. Besides, I know Arthur. He can't say no."

"You're the best, dude!"

"I know. Honhonhon." I hung up the phone. Hopefully Francis was right.

…

"Francis, dude, you're a lifesaver!" I exclaimed. He smiled at me.

"Don't screw this up, American." I nodded and got on the jet. It was fairly large and probably even more expensive than my apartment. I sat in my seat and put on my seatbelt. A lot of women in miniskirts and nine inch heals walked around. I barely noticed them.

The plane ride was long. I finally got to England. It was, of course, raining outside. The sky looked like a giant sheet of metal. I hadn't packed a bag, so I ran outside to hail a cab. I told him Arthur's address and we wove through the traffic.

…

I knocked on Arthur's door, shivering on his front porch. It was pouring now, and I was completely soaked. I ran a hand through my wet blonde hair to get it out of my eyes. I could barely see through my glasses. He answered the door. He looked baffled.

"What do you want, Alfred?" he asked, trying to hide his face. His blonde hair hung in his eyes. He had been crying. I could tell. Without thinking, I leaned in and kissed him. He stiffened. My hand got tangled in his hair. He was fighting it. Eventually he gave in and started kissing me back. I was instantly warm all over despite the icy water sliding down my back.

"I'm so sorry," I murmured against his lips. Tears mixed with rain slid down my face.

"No, I'm sorry. I should've trusted you."

"It's not your fault. I should've been on time and told you what was going on."

"Don't blame yourself."

"Why? None of this would have happened if I hadn't been completely honest."

"It's not your fault. I just got jealous."

"I should've just told you that I loved you instead of asking Francis for help." The words slipped out before I could stop them. I bit my lip.

"You love me?" he asked blushing slightly. I flushed a deep crimson.

"I, uh, uh, I um, yes," I stuttered. Arthur pecked me on the lips.

"Good. I love you too." He slipped his hand into mine and everything felt perfect.

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**Bad ending, but whatever! I like it. Review! If you don't, I'll give you some of Iggy's scones!**


	4. The Hunger Games

**Hey guys! I have another story! It's kinda short, but I like it. I thought of it while hanging out with my homie Japan. So thanks Buddie! Well, I hope you enjoy:3**

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or The Hunger Games. My boyfriend does look like Peeta though...

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"Iggy!" America exclaimed in a sort of panic. He had thrown down the book he had just finished reading on the messy coffee table. The table was covered in business papers from the day's earlier world meeting. The country had run home right away to finish the book he had been obsessing over for the past week. Who knew that he could read?

"What do you want, America?" I asked as I sipped my tea. I set my teacup down gently and looked up at him. His blue eyes were frightened. He raked a shaky hand through his blonde hair. His cowlick popped right back up.

"Please don't let Panem steal my 50 states from me!" he cried. My bushy brows scrunched up in confusion.

"What on Earth are you talking about?"

"In this book some chick comes and steals my states from me! Then she gets snow to control it! You know how much I hate the cold!" He held up a surprisingly thick book (for him). It was paperback with a black cover. _The Hunger Games _was etched onto the front.

"America, you do realize that it's a book, right?" I asked. His eyes started to get misty.

"It's a dystopian _future _book, Iggy! You don't even care do you?" A tear slid down his face. I jumped up from my seat and ran over to hug the hysterical nation. He sobbed into my shoulder.

"Of course I care. You know I do. You have nothing to worry about. I'll make sure that this never happens, OK?" He pulled me tighter. When we pulled apart I went on my toes and kissed his cheek. It was wet from his tears. I wiped the rest away and grabbed his hand. I needed to get him a burger from McDonalds before he started freaking out again.

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**What did you think? Personally this was my favorite! And it only took like half an hour! So review and tell me what your favorite it! Or leave any suggestions for a story!**


	5. I Miss You

**Hey guys! i haven't uploaded anything to this story lately. Sorry about that. This isn't my best, and there's no real plot to it at all, but I'm uploading it anyway! Hopefully someone will like it. Well, enjoy :3**

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I missed him so much. His smile that brought sunshine to my rainy mood. The laugh that was so contagious you couldn't help but smile. Eyes so blue that you thought you were staring at the clearest sea. I missed everything. Even the pesky cowlick that wouldn't lie flat no matter how hard you tried to make it cooperate.

My heart ached for what I used to have. If only he would come back. I knew that he wouldn't though. He had fought for his freedom. I hadn't expected him to beat me. Or that I would fall in love with him. I realized the moment he had won that he wasn't a little boy anymore, nor was he my little brother. In the years of bloodshed he had grown up into a young man.

I didn't understand why he had wanted to leave. I had given him everything he could have ever wanted. I gave him a home to live in, clothes to wear, and food to eat. He had repaid me with a war. Even thinking about those times brought tears to my eyes.

I quickly wiped my jade eyes with the back of my hand. The tears kept coming like the rain in my country. It never stopped. The heartache that he brought when he came to the world meetings. I would always hide my feelings with an insult about his economy or his health. It helped that he couldn't see through my act. It would only hurt more if he knew the truth.

The sound of the doorbell broke me out of my reminiscing. I got up from where I was sitting and opened the door. Standing before me was the source of all my problems. He still looked the same, but he was a lot bigger and he wore glasses. His ever present smile was missing though. It was strange to see.

"Are you OK, Iggy?" he asked, his words laced with concern. I had completely forgotten that I had been crying.

"I'm fine, America. What do you want?" I asked.

"I just came to see how you were. You seemed to be a little blue in the last world meeting."

"Like I said, I'm fine. You can go now." I went to close the door, but he put his foot in the way. He pushed the door back open.

"Are you sure, dude? You're crying."

"I said I'm fine! Now will you please do a favor and get lost?" I yelled. More tears streamed down my face. I wiped at my eyes. Suddenly I could feel his strong arms around me. All I could do was stand there stunned. His body shook as sobs raked through him.

"Why are you crying?" I asked.

"Seeing you cry made me so sad. It's because of me isn't it?" Tears fell onto my back from those beautiful blue eyes.

"N-no," I lied.

"I miss you so much," he cried. My heart stopped for a second.

"Then why did you leave?" My voice sounded small.

"Because I didn't want to be your brother. I love you too much to only think of you that way."

"You love me?"

"Of course I do." He wiped my eyes, and his wonderful smile returned to his face. Before I knew what was happening, I pulled him down so our lips connected. He wrapped his arms tighter around me and kissed back. My mind went fuzzy, and I didn't care.

"I love you, America," I mumbled going red in the face. He just smiled, and promised to never let me go again. Sounded like a pretty good deal to me.

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**What did you guys think? If you liked it or have any suggestions for other chapters, leave a review! And if you liked this story, check out my other stories. They need love too :3**


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